893
by Asphodael
Summary: A series of drabbles that take place in a crazy yakuza AU 'verse. Crack and Rikkai and guns, oh my. Warning: future character death.
1. Gun to the Head

Gun to the Head

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

There had been rumors going around for weeks now. "The higher officers are weak." "They don't have the skills." "Indecisive." "There's a tidal wave coming." 

_There is a tidal wave coming._

Yukimura took rein of Rikkai with the strength and calm of the creeping vine.

--------

Days afterward, those of Rikkai held their breaths. No one was sure what to expect, nor what was expected. But all looked on when one of the younger members strode forward toward the heart of headquarters. Granted, he stood out, dressed in a summer yukata when autumn bore down hard and fast. There was no tattoo visible where the yukata hung low and revealed bare skin, and people wondered.

"_Oyabun_, my name is Niou Masaharu." With a cocksure grin, he made a sweeping bow, rattail falling over his naked shoulder. Only when Yukimura lifted his head did he rise again, and he saw the sharp glint when their eyes briefly met. He'd chosen well, he thought, but he was always good at judging characters. And Yukimura - this man was undoubtedly better.

"Come have a drink with me. Sanada, Yanagi, will you join us?"

They danced around each other, careful game of words until Niou was reading twenty, thirty steps ahead and understanding that all paths led to too much given, too little gained. Yukimura only smiled when he spread open a fan and began idly waving it. "I'd like to offer my services to you."

"Then I'd like to offer you another drink," and Yukimura waited for Niou to accept the cup before continuing. "And a job."

Niou didn't say anything, merely raised an eyebrow and waited patiently.

"Choose a partner, and show me what you can do." Yukimura turned his attention away from him to Sanada then, and Niou took it as indication he was dismissed.

"Niou Masaharu, age 24." Yanagi's voice stopped him halfway to the door. "Birthday December 4th, height 175cm, weight 62kg. Family consists of father, mother, older sister, and younger brother. His main weapon is a set of metal fans, though he is well-versed in most guns as well. Favors strategy, with a flair for show. I'd suggest tracking down Yagyuu Hiroshi perhaps, or Jackal for his solidity."

It was _creepy_. It made all his earlier tiptoeing seem inconsequential, for while it wasn't a lot of knowledge on him, it was enough with the potential of more. "Yagyuu huh?" and it was a relief to himself that he gave no hint of having been unsettled. "I'll see." He gave a snappy salute before trotting off.

The three watched his retreating back, before Sanada shifted his gaze to Yanagi. "Was that really necessary?"

"No, but it was interesting, wasn't it?"


	2. White Sheep, Brown Sheep

White Sheep, Brown Sheep (Have you any wool?)

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

_Tap, tap, tap._ "Delivery."

With the caution of habit and surviving more than one mail-order bombing, Yagyuu opened the door a crack. There was an imperceptible pause, and then he swung the door open the rest of the way.

The mailman's head was dipped down over a nondescript package, the plastic blue of a pen bright against cardboard. He waited for the bundle to be handed to him, except suddenly he found himself staring into laughing blue eyes. "Hello, Yagyuu," and in an instant, he found himself being pulled down for a kiss.

Spiked, white hair was the first thing he noticed when they broke. This close up, he could see a mole beneath the lip as well. So this was Niou then, who had talked with Yukimura. Niou watched him, and he watched back, considering, before his mouth twitched into a smile. In near-perfect mimicry, he returned, "Hello, Yagyuu," and closed the gap between them once more for a gentler kiss. When they broke apart, Niou began laughing, and with a tilt of his head, he invited Niou in.

"It'll be a normal run against Seishun's Golden Pair."

Yagyuu snorted. 'Normal run' indeed. As if anything involving Seishun could ever constitute as normal. "Nonetheless, they have an almost spotless track record. It wouldn't do well to underestimate them. More tea?"

"Yeah, sure, thanks." Niou slouched further in his seat, thinking. "Oishi is the one we have to watch for. I can handle Eiji, probably,  
and you could snipe out Oishi in the meanwhile. It's just boring."

Yagyuu merely shrugged. "You did say it would be a normal run."

"Mm." To anyone that knew how to look, there was an almost predatory gleam in Niou's eyes. "Hey, Yagyuu."

"Yes?"

"How fast do you think you could learn to handle my fans?"


	3. Welcome Wild Dog

Welcome Wild Dog

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

Akaya was waiting when Yanagi returned home. The first time Akaya had broken in, he'd nearly killed the younger man accidentally. But Akaya had continued breaking in, despite the dangers, and so he'd set his security instead to recognize Akaya, trusted that Akaya wouldn't do anything. To allow the wandering man a place to call home, merely being a little more cautious as he entered his apartment wasn't much. It wasn't as though he kept anything of value there, nor lived much there. It was just a place he stopped in on occasion.

"You're here again. It's about your tattoo?" He laughed a little when Akaya started, brushed off the way green eyes bore into him. Here, there was always a ready pot of hot water, and he began to prepare the tea.

Akaya continued watching him sullenly, nonetheless. "How'd you know?"

"I know." Akaya waited expectantly for something more. But tea came first. With a steady hand, Yanagi set the tea down, pouring Akaya a cup. Akaya grimaced, not fond of the bitter drink, but time after time he served it to Akaya anyway. It was good to swallow a little bitterness, he believed, to pre-empt harsher tastes later. "You're having trouble creating a design?"

"I don't know what to put. Stuff that represents _me_, Yukimura said, but." Akaya shrugged. "Like I'm good at that kinda stuff. Symbols, icons, that's your mess. And he said it was important, anyway."

"Well, it does represent your maturity and your status as a full-fledged member in the family, after all. For you..." he stood, motioning Akaya to follow. "I have some books you might want to look at." He didn't mention that he'd prepared them days ago, and had been waiting.

"You can't just choose something for me?"

"You think I know you that well? Your secrets, your goals, your background, your self?" He prided himself on knowing things, on his data. He was the Master, Yanagi Renji, but people were not just facts but dreams, desires, chaos. He was smart enough to know that data did not make a person. And there were always things a person thought but never told.

Akaya flopped onto the floor, silent in consideration. After a long while, the wild-haired man answered. "Yes."

It surprised Yanagi, more than he would have been willing to admit. But then Akaya was speaking again, "Those books you set out - it's on stuff you thought might interest me, right?" Akaya's grin was wide, laughing, and he realized the younger man was _elated_ at having beaten him at his own game. "So tell me, already."

So he thought, and chose one of the beasts of mythology. "All right then. There's a creature called Kerberos that guards the gates of the dead..."


	4. Red Moon Run

Red Moon Run

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

"Give me a good showing."

As one, Niou and Yagyuu turned to where Yukimura stood. Yukimura - now _that_ man was a presence. And Niou might have wondered more on it, but more important was the task on hand. "Come to see us off, boss?" He nodded in acknowledgement. "Master, Sanada-_kun_, how nice of you to wish us well. And oh? Where's the ickle brat that's been following you three lately?"

He didn't miss the brief glance exchanged between the Big Three. "Kirihara-kun is recovering from his first inking. I'm glad you're so concerned for him though. I'll tell him you wished him well."

"He's a man now, huh?" Yagyuu hissed at him, _stop playing_, so he shot back a grin. "Don't be so tetchy, Yagyuu. I'm ready. Well, we're going."

"You two, put your sights on. Especially you, Niou." Everyone turned to look at Sanada; Yanagi seemed ready to say something but held back.

"Not necessary." Even Yagyuu smirked at that, the lens of his glasses hiding laughing eyes.

"Oyabun, Yanagi, Sanada," and Yagyuu carried the air of a wolf before a hunt. "We're going."

As soon as the two were out of earshot, Sanada exploded. "What do they _think_ they're doing?"

"We'll see, won't we?" and in an instant, the room centered around Yukimura once more. "Renji, call Akaya to track after them and record. Genichirou, come with me. We're going to pay a visit to Atobe."

------

"Eiji, _down_!"

The first gunshot missed its mark by a hair's width.

There were few buildings at the wharf, and under the light of the full moon, Niou's bleached white hair stood out. For a moment, Eiji made to go after the Rikkai member, but Oishi held him back and moved instead. Steel brace guards blocked off the edged fans, and in the brief power struggle that ensued, Oishi hissed out, "Eiji, you're better for handling Yagyuu. You have the eyes to follow his shots." The redhead nodded and darted off.

"Oh? You seem to have it all figured out, hm?"

"You can't beat me with just that." One arm still fending off Niou's fans, Oishi shot once, twice to widen the distance. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Eiji easily dodging shots and getting in punches. Inui was right, he thought, though that was to be expected. They could handle these two.

Except all of a sudden Eiji was down and _bleeding_.

"But I don't have to beat you, do I? Oh my... The kitten can't move any more?" Startled, he turned to where Niou was, but Niou wasn't there but the man Inui had in his files as Yagyuu was instead, gun still directed at Eiji's prone form. Over where Eiji lay, straight brown locks transformed to wild spikes. With ease, Niou found the transport keys, the man's own gun aimed at him to keep from moving. The two Rikkai men _sauntered_ over to the truck and started the ignition, and even as the vehicle pulled away from the wharf he was already running towards his partner.

Oishi's voice was tight as he made the phone call. "Taichou, the shipment was lost. Eiji is injured. Send help _now_."


	5. Law and Order

Law and Order

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

The threat was taken care of a split second before Yukimura reacted to it. It took longer for the adrenaline to fade, to loosen the grip on his pistol. He was playing the civilian at the moment, he reminded himself. But it was so _stupid_ for someone to try to put a hit on him in broad daylight, especially by hiring an inept fool to do the job at that. Perhaps that was what bothered him the most, being underestimated. Pride was a cardinal sin, but it was something he chose to indulge in nonetheless. 

"Are you all right?" And now, Yukimura took a good luck at the officer who'd cleaned up for him. A foreigner, or more likely, a half-blood. "You're not hurt?" He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of an enforcer of the law eliciting concern over him.

"I'm fine, thank you. Just a little dirty." As if to prove the latter statement, he straightened his coat, brushed the dust off the trim. "Do you need to take a statement?"

The officer shook his head. "I'm not going to ask questions. And you can clean that up yourself, right?"

So the man knew. That made things much more interesting. Curiosity perked, Yukimura jabbed. "You're not going to arrest me?"

"Despite what my colleagues think, even though organized crime has been on the rise, random killings have been going down." The words were carefully spoken. "What you do, at least you make sure to keep it strictly to business. All involved parties know the risks beforehand and deserve what they get. No, you're better on the throne than off it." The man finished cleaning his gun and carefully stowed it away. "I trust you'll clean this?"

It was an unexpected answer from an unexpected source. Yukimura laughed and offered his hand to shake. "I like you. And yes, I'll clean it. Your name?"

The man's hand was warm as it wrapped around Yukimura's. "Kuwahara Jackal. Should I be flattered?"

"If I send word, don't dismiss it so easily, hm?" Jackal nodded, and moved to resume his post. Yukimura let him leave.

When Jackal was out of earshot, Yukimura pulled his cellphone out. "Genichirou, will you ready a clean-up crew for me? And check whether Renji is in, will you? I've found something interesting."


	6. All That Glistens

All That Glistens

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

They didn't even get close to Atobe's office before they were turned away. 

"I'm afraid he's unable to see you right now." Sakaki didn't bother to look up as he answered. "Perhaps next time, if you make an appointment, you'll be granted a hearing with him." It was like a smack in the face, and Yukimura was hard-pressed not to restrain Sanada from taking action. That would have been unprofessional, however, and image was always important. He'd only been able to nod along before leaving.

"You two are from Rikkai?" A young man who couldn't have been much older than they watched them from his perch on one of the poker tables. A refined look, the man was dressed in clean-cut formal wear that somehow set him apart from the rest of the casino-goers. He struck his hand out, offered to Yukimura to shake. "Atobe Keigo. How do you like my casino? My old man tends to leave the goings-on of this place to me." His voice dropped to a lower volume. "What you were going to discuss with my father. He might not listen, but he's a fool with no insight. But let me hear you out instead."

"I'm surprised you haven't taken Hyoutei yet, with that mind of yours." Yukimura's expression was mild as he took Keigo's hand in a firm grip.

The statement didn't faze Atobe. "Oh? Are you asking me to commit treason? Hyoutei is not so much like Rikkai, though they say the strongest rules. They do take stock in tradition and the passing of the position. Especially the older clients, they believe in bloodline and lineage."

Yukimura raised one eyebrow at that. "And yet I've heard your grandmother usurped the throne in her time."

"She married the younger son. And if she happened to out-maneuver the older son with her husband's power, well." Keigo shrugged. "Now what was it you wanted to discuss?"

"I just wanted to formalize the current balance of power between Rikkai and Hyoutei at the moment. Normally, our paths don't cross, but..."

"It's always better to look ahead?"

Yukimura beamed. "Precisely. As it is, Hyoutei's territory is mainly the city and business district, while Rikkai deals in the docks. We both have a common enemy in Seishun, and it'd be the better for both of us if we don't accidentally fall into a territory struggle that Seishun can take advantage of."

"We weren't planning on expanding, anyway." Which was wholly a lie - Keigo knew his father had been eyeing Rikkai before Yukimura had taken over. "As you said, it wouldn't have been wise to come to heads with you. Does this require we share our run paths though? Some of our shipments do occasionally come in the ports out of necessity."

The issue was easily dismissed. "We would find out before the actual run occurred. Don't look down on our information network."

"One more thing," and here, Keigo's voice dipped into barely a hiss. "Tezuka Kunimitsu. I want to take him myself."

Yukimura's grin briefly turned shark-like. "If you get to him first." (In the background, Sanada snorted. "As though he could match up." Keigo paid the snide remark no attention.)

"It's a deal." Here, Keigo stood, effectively ending the discussion. "Would you like some refreshments?"

"No, it's all right, thank you. We have other things to do." They shook hands again, with enough strength to almost bruise. Sanada looked ready to step in.

Outside, the full moon lit their paths. "They should be done already, Niou and Yagyuu. So?" And here, Yukimura turned to Sanada. "What did you think?"

"They should," Sanada grunted in agreement. "That Atobe - he wouldn't stand a chance against you. And I think you should leave me out of these things next time; I don't have the patience for them."

At that, Yukimura laughed. "I noticed you fidgeting in there. But don't look down on Atobe-kun so easily. He _is_ a scion of the Atobe family after all. And that bloodline is strong. Still, when the time comes, we will make the first move, and we will move fast and hard." Yukimura's hand brushed Sanada's arm, a light touch. "Can you be patient until then?"

The words brought a feral grin to Sanada's face. "For battle, I can wait as long as I need."

Yukimura gave him a considering look. "You know, I've heard Atobe is well-versed in swordsmanship. Perhaps you can match blades with him sometime. Judge him, and tell me what you think then."

Sanada's hand moved to where his sword usually hung. "He will be judged."


	7. Behind Paper Walls

Behind Paper Walls  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

It was delicate, and beautiful, and traditional, like so much of Niou. And like so much of Niou, it made such a _mockery_ of the things it was supposed to represent, once a person looked a little closer. For Yagyuu stood now in the back rooms of a quaint little tea shop, and while a brief glance might have given the notion of respectability, it was hard not to notice the barely-hidden actions that passed between the servers and customers, both under the table and above. It was easy enough to imagine what went on when a customer was invited behind the paper doors that separated the dining area from the _dining_ area. 

"This is your side business?" Yagyuu scanned the place with distaste. One of the servers winked at Niou as she walked past, eyeing him appreciatively as well.

"Boss, a personal friend of yours? Will we get to play with him later?" Her tone gave no doubt as to what she was implying, though the words alone were fairly indicative. His lips thinned to a tight smile, but before he could make comment, Niou pulled him in for a kiss with a laugh.

"Sorry, but this one's mine." Yagyuu shot him a glare, but Niou mouthed for silence. Directing Yagyuu away, Niou lowered his voice. "There's someone I want you to meet." They wove their way through the true backrooms, Yagyuu pointedly ignoring the grunts and groans coming from various chambers. At the end of the hall, they stopped, and at the bottom of a flight of stairs, Niou knocked on the door.

"Hey, Chopsticks. Come out for a moment, will ya?"

A eye peeked out cautiously, and then the door flew open. "Hey, what. Make it quick, you're interrupting _genius_ here. Oh hey, you got a boytoy?" The latter comment made Yagyuu bury his face in his palm. If this was going to become a recurring theme...

"Isn't he cute? He's a nice catch, isn't h- Okay, okay, I'll stop; Yagyuu, put away the gun."

Niou shuddered as Yagyuu dipped close to his ear, whispered, "That's kind of you. Thank you." Marui watched the scene with one eyebrow lifted.

"So this is Yagyuu." They measured each other, and then Marui grinned and snapped his gum. "Yeah, you're good. I'm Marui. You use guns, huh? I've needed practice with long-distance opponents."

Niou snorted. "You're a close-range fighter. I keep telling you to get a partner who can deal with that for you."

"Good gunmen who are willing to take a partner aren't so easy to find, you know." Marui shrugged. "And most of them won't take me anyway once they hear I'm 'Chopsticks'. Can't deal with the genius, probably."

"Or the gore," and in the banter Yagyuu suddenly realized why 'Chopsticks' sounded so familiar. This was the hitman who'd become famous half for his gruesome methods, half for the skill and precision needed to employ said methods? He spoke up.

"The Master might be able to find someone."  
"Except for the part where I'm not in Rikkai."  
"Nor is there anything to keep you from joining, either."  
"And this Yukimura would be interested in me?"

Niou laughed at that. "He likes strange things." Before Niou could say anything further, however, there was a ruckus from upstairs. "Geez, some customers... Yagyuu, tell him what's necessary; I'm going to go check things out."

The source of chaos turned out to be a man in Yamabuki's colors. One of the younger servers rushed over, the yukata over his small frame loose. "It's Akutsu from the Yamabuki district. He wants Taichi-kun."

"Does he?" Niou strolled over, both hands and closed fans hidden in the sleeves of his clothing. "I'm the head of this establishment here. Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Dan." Akutsu spat out the cigarette he'd been working on, snubbing it with the sole of his boot. "I'm taking him out of here."

Niou tilted his head, and though there was no overt change, suddenly, the bloodlust of his self was plain. Akutsu flinched, but didn't retreat or even move. "Is that so? He's still in-training at the moment; I'm afraid he's not available. Would you like to reserve him for next time?"

"As if." But before Akutsu could even move, both Yagyuu and Marui were suddenly there, weapons poised nary an inch from vital points. Akutsu stiffened.

"You'll leave quietly. Don't be foolish"  
"Why don't you put that away before you hurt yours-"

"Akutsu?" It was Dan, his signiture headband falling into his eyes. "I thought I heard you in here! You're not bothering the customers again, are you? Sorry I'm late!"

Akutsu shrugged away Yagyuu and Marui. "C'mon, let's go."

"Yes!"

They watched the pair leave, and slowly business resumed as normal. "You're just going to let them go?" Marui gave Niou a sidelong glance.

"They know well enough what happens if Dan doesn't come back. And I don't _own_ Dan." Niou's grin widened. "Mostly."

------

In a park in the heart of the Yamabuki district, Akutsu and Dan sat and waited for Sengoku. "So tell me what you know about Niou..."


	8. White Peaches and Cream

White Peaches and Cream  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

It was the second time this week that Kirihara had seen her, a slip of pink on an otherwise empty street. This was a rich neighborhood, filled with the kind of stupid brats that were all bark but no bite. So he watched from the rooftops out of curiosity, to while away the time.

She hadn't _done_ anything last time, just picked her way into one of the larger houses and back out. He'd checked after she'd left to see, and there'd been no bodies, no disturbances, not even a theft. (He hadn't seen her carrying anything out, and in that outfit, she wasn't hiding anything.) Just an unmarked sealed envelope on the coffee table, but he wasn't sure whether that had already been there or not. He didn't open it.

This time though, he could see cops starting to swarm around the home like ants. That was interesting; it had only been a couple of minutes since she'd broken in, and the cops had already reacted. It was though they had known she was going to be there. "Momoneko! Come out with your hands in the air!" Ah, no wonder. They had a _celebrity_ on stage. He snorted to himself. Like they were going to catch her _that_ way. What were they, stupid?

Momoneko did come out, and her hands _were_ in the air, and then there was bloody mayhem. From where Kirihara was perched, binoculars pressed to his face, he was grinning. This girl, she had _style_, and he thought he might have been in love. When she leapt to the rooftops, he licked his lips, eyed the possible paths, and began to move.

She bumped into him five roofs down, not even breathing hard yet, and for awhile they ran together. Then Kirihara jerked his head to the side, _this way_, and all of a sudden they'd completely lost the police on their trails. They slowed their paces, finally ending up in a well-lit park. Kirihara tossed her his jacket. "So you don't stand out so much."

"Mm, thank you," and Kirihara realized this was the first time she had opened her eyes the whole night. Bright, bright blue, that reminded him a little of Niou's, and he was taken aback by their brilliance. He found himself blushing.

"Ah, it's nothing. It was good enough watching you back there."

"You're not bad enough yourself, if you can follow me." They kicked back on the swings, Kirihara rocking back and forth a little. "Would you like to see what my target was tonight?" Kirihara nodded eagerly, and she revealed in her hand the small crystal egg she had been nursing. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Nn. And you tell people you're taking it before you take it?"  
"Well, that makes it more fun, doesn't it? But you're not ordinary yourself either, are you?"

Kirihara rubbed his nose sheepishly. "I'm a pretty good shot, yeah. I'd like to match myself against you someday though."

"Perhaps, if we meet again. Is that your phone?"

He started when he realized that the low buzzing was indeed coming from his pocket. "Oh, yeah, thanks." He motioned an apology as he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

_"Akaya."_

"What, already?" Kirihara made disgruntled motions as Yanagi pointed out the time. "Awright, I get it. I'll get there as fast as I can." He turned to Momoneko, saluting. "Sorry, previous appointment! Keep the jacket, yeah? We'll meet again, definitely." And then he'd darted off.

------

Later that night, as Fuji removed the makeup and dress and changed into his usual suit, he considered throwing away the jacket. It was a marker, and dangerous, but then, what was a little risk? That made things _fun_ after all. He smoothed the coat out and put it away.

They would meet again indeed. But next time, undoubtedly, it would be by Tezuka's side.

Next time, he wouldn't be playing.


	9. Ink Stains

Ink Stains  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

Yanagi's hands kneeded the vasoline into Kirihara's skin, involuntary massage that made him squirm and then loosen completely. It had been nearly a day since he'd received the tattoo, and though it was only the outline so far, it was also visible proof of his status. So he focused on the way Yanagi's hands rubbed into his back, and almost purred. "Mmm... Hey, Yanagi." 

"Yes?"  
"I met Momoneko that night."

Yanagi's fingers stilled briefly, then resumed their ministrations. "Ah."

Kirihara arched his head back to get a good luck on Yanagi's face. "She was pretty cool, for a girl. Hey, can I see your tattoo?" Just like that, the conversation shifted, the focus on Yanagi. It was strange, because it should have been Kirihara's night, but Yanagi mentally shrugged and answered the question.

"I don't have one." They stood out, the tattoos, and he wasn't like Kirihara whose future was all yakuza; he'd wormed his way in to other places as well, where tattoos were looked down upon. Too risky, so he hadn't gotten one when it'd been time, though he'd once sketched cranes and blue salvia.

Kirihara frowned, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Why's that? I thought you said they were important."

"They are," and the admittance was followed by gentle chiding for Kirihara to stop moving. "But there's also a social stigma to them, and I can't afford to have that as easily as you can."

There was silence, from Kirihara, then, "Can I get you one, someday?" Surprisingly sweet, and maybe it was because Kirihara was tipping towards the edges of sleep.

"Perhaps. So you met Momoneko?" This was Kirihara's night; Yanagi dipped fingers into vaseline again and rubbed lower on Kirihara's back.

"Mmhm. I want to see her again. Maybe challenge her. She looks _fun_," and the barely-supressed lust reminded Yanagi that this was no longer the sixteen year old boy he'd been asked to train, before Rikkai, before Yukimura had asked him to become Master. Kirihara was twenty now, and grown. But Kirihara had yet to draw blood from him, in a fight. ("It's because you know where I'm going!" "It's because I watch you.")

Until then, Kirihara was still his, just a little bit. That was their unspoken promise. ("I'll beat you, and then Sanada and Yukimura." And then Kirihara wouldn't need him any more, when that day came.) And knowledge was always useful. "Tell me about her," and his fingers made lazy whorls on Kirihara's skin as the younger man rambled on.


	10. Through the Gates

Through the Gates  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

"You've accepted the offer then?" They seemed to always be meeting in the small alleyways, the bystreets of this large city. Usually, there was nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement between them, but this time, Jackal knelt at Yukimura's presence, his gun and badge on the ground before him.

"I have. Shall I turn in my badge, or...?" He was a stolid man, Yukimura thought. Yes, he would do well to balance the inner circle. But he shook his head at Jackal's question, _'No, keep it.'_ It would come in use someday, Jackal's position within the force.

"You should resume your beat now," and Jackal nodded and thanked Yukimura. "Come by here later, when you have time." Yukimura offered him a hand up, and left him with a slip of paper and a smile.

------

He was staid, boring Jackal, whom nobody ever really looked at twice except to gawk at the fact he was a half-blood. He'd learned not to mind such things, learned even to turn it to his advantage. Such was the way of things. One either learned to adjust or died.

The address he'd been given led to the docks, and if he hadn't already been on guard, he would have been when the first shot rang clear. There were scrabbling noises to his right, and the gunshot had come from north. He cursed at the open space, ducking behind one of the few crate stacks on the wharf. There was a loud hiss, and he turned to see a redhead motioning toward him. The man was biting down on a pair of chopsticks, and he eyed those curiously before edging near with his gun at the ready.

"Oh, stop being so cautious. I'm Marui. Cover for me, will ya? So I can track that bastard down and gouge out his _eyes_." Marui didn't even look for affirmation on his end, before counting down silently with his fingers. Three, two, one - and then he'd darted out and in alarm Jackal followed, keeping a close eye on the surroundings as Marui just _moved_.

Gunshot from northeast: "Go to your right." Marui didn't even miss a beat before switching directions. "Back left again. The shots are coming from the warehouse there." He himself fired off several shots of his own, seeking to warn the unseen opponent rather than actually injure.

They pinned the man soon enough, Marui's chopsticks blocked by steel when the redhead tackled. The man was laughing, and even when he aimed the gun at the man's head, the mirth didn't abate any. Marui grinned back and, nudging out another chopstick - this one much sharper - from hidden pockets, pinned one of their prey's hand like a butterfly's wing. Jackal didn't so much as blink. "Yagyuu is _so_ pissed at you."

Jackal froze. Yagyuu was the one he should have been meeting, not Marui. He paid closer attention.

"Is he pissed I didn't finish things? Oh, let off me, Marui. That your new partner?" The man brushed back white hair, only afterward drawing out the bamboo stick in his palm with a soft curse. "Fuck, you bastard, it's going to be a pain in the ass fighting," though the words were spoken with something almost like humor. "Jackal, right? I'm Niou. Yagyuu is... otherwise occupied." Jackal didn't say anything, just kept his gun trained on Niou.

Marui put away the unused chopsticks, forced his hand down. "Don't worry, he's on our side. He's just _Niou_." As if that explained everything. It didn't, but Jackal didn't ask. He would probably find out eventually. "So you're planning on joining?" He nodded. "You squeamish?" He snorted. People who worked his rounds saw many things, including a good number of mutilated corpses. One didn't plan on becoming a hitman if they were squeamish, and he said as much. Marui grinned, and slapped him on the back hard in amusement. "Great, so from now on, you'll be working with this great genius here. All you have to do is watch my back."

Jackal reholstered his gun. "I could do that."

------

Later that evening, he received another invitation, slipped under the door of his apartment. Yukimura was waiting for him at the high-scale restaurant, calm amidst the boisterous meetings of businessmen in the rooms around them. "What do you think of Rikkai?" spoken in a gentle tone that made Jackal wonder if, perhaps, this wasn't a test after all.

"They're interesting."

Yukimura nodded. "They are, but that's why I love them all." Only now did Yukimura hold out the sake bottle and offer. "Drink with me, won't you?"

The liquid burned down his throat, and then he was in.


	11. As The Crow Flies

As The Crow Flies  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.  
Warning: Future character deaths! Eheh... sorry for not putting it earlier. It completely slipped my mind. orz;;;

* * *

"You've been picking fights again," Oshitari noticed as Gakuto swaggered in, drunk on adrenaline and giddy as all hell. Gakuto's grin was touched with insanity, just a little, the thin point soles of his boots marking spots of blood on the carpet. Oshitari made a mental note to get it cleaned later, and pulled Gakuto closer to examine the wounds.

Gakuto snorted and waved Oshitari's hand away, reaching to grab the bandages himself. As he unzipped his vest halfway down to reveal a still-bleeding shoulder, he began to speak. "I was bored, and they were trying to fuck with me. 'Aww, lookit him trying to be a big boy.' Big enough to plant my heel in their groins, sure." Oshitari winced in empathy. "Really, what are they teaching the newcomers in the business these days?" He wound the bandage around the injury and tied it, before tearing it away with a jerk. "One of the bastards got a lucky knife in. Good thing I wasn't wearing my suit."

"I'm sure." Oshitari brushed against the bound cut, before unzipping the remainder of the vest and tossing it to the floor. "You should be more careful, you know." Long fingers moved to Gakuto's neck and chin, then tangled into dark red hair. "You never know who you're going to run into."

"If you're so worried, come back and run with me again, huh?" Gakuto tilted his head upward, grinning at Oshitari as if almost daring the taller man. But Oshitari just smiled, nuzzled into his neck.

"I'm better suited for my casino job, you know that." Gakuto hadn't grown much taller over the years, Oshitari mused. Still a head shorter than he, and in many ways, the redhead hadn't changed much at all. Still impulsive as when they'd done the runs together, years back, but back then he'd at least been able to keep track. Now, Gakuto was flying higher, faster, harder, and Oshitari wondered whether he'd be there to pull Gakuto back from the sun. "I might though. It would be good to stretch my limbs."

"I bet you're rusty." Gakuto grinned at the idea of that, because even if Oshitari did spend much of his time playing card dealer to easy fools, neither mind nor body were in any way out of practice. "I'm gonna go wash. Join me?"

"In a moment," and Oshitari watched as Gakuto's bare back disappeared into the bathroom. _That_ was an image that would never fade - the orange-red of the harvest moon, the black crow with its spread wings about to lift for flight.

Gakuto had already started the water running when he entered, and he let his clothes slither to the floor. They pressed together under the shower of hot water, Gakuto letting him rub the soap into lathers for both of them. Sweet smell of steam, he inhaled it, and when Gakuto turned him and gently pinned him against the wall, he merely relaxed into Gakuto's splayed hands. Gakuto was tracing the lazy coils of the snake on his back, green-black twined 'round the branch from which the apple of Eden hung. Knowledge and temptation - he offered the promise of luxury if only his customers were wise enough to earn it, but so much more often they fell instead. Cards were a tricky game.

But Gakuto's fingers were memorizing the lines of his tattoo, and he let himself drown in that sensation.

It _had_ been a long time since they'd run together. Next time, definitely...

"Mmm, Gakuto. When's your next job?"


	12. Building Empires

Building Empires  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.  
Warning: Future character death.

* * *

_'Ogre child.' 'Spirit.'_ They spited him, because he was too big for his age, too quiet. So the other children picked on him, but when he didn't fight back they lost interest and went away. He huddled over his castle, alone in the sandbox, and sculpted with meticulous detail spires and towers and sturdy sand walls.

His father sat him down in the study when he turned twelve. "Munehiro." His father had big hands, too, that managed to wrap around even his. He was taught what it meant to be Hyoutei then, and when the subject of Atobe Keigo came up - "This is the man you will follow for the rest of your life." He nodded, and said yes, and then his father left him to his own devices.

But the next day he was brought to the Atobe household, that was bigger than any castle he'd ever dreamed of. No spires and no towers, but he and his father walked past more rooms than he could count, until they reached a set of heavy mahogany doors. Past those was the man named Atobe, whom his father admired so much, and he waited with patience to see what about this man could bring his father to bow low out of respect.

He was nudged toward the sullen boy by the window, who didn't seem like much but in one glance had measured him and found him worthy. It was strange being acknowledged for once, so he just stood there, neither moving nor talking, until with an imperial tone (so full of pride, Atobe Keigo had been like that even then) the boy asked him what he was interested in.

"Building bottle ships."

Atobe's eyes glinted. "Ships brought England the world, not a century ago. I want to see your ships, some day." He nodded in agreement, because now, anything that was his was this boy's too. "Good. You're Kabaji Munehiro, right?" Yes. "I'll just call you Kabaji." Yes.

"Next time, you'll bring your ships with you."  
"Yes."


	13. Liquid Light

Liquid Light  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

Saeki tore through the streets whooping like a madman, red jacket blazing out behind him as he wove between cars. _This_ was how one rode a motorcycle, not like the way Ryou went, silent and unobtrusive but rather _loud_. The point was to bait the officers, get the adrenaline rushing, and then use well-developed knowledge of the territory to outrun them all. 

He heard rather than saw the other bike coming. Like the cry of a swallow, and he risked a quick glance back to see blue-tipped "wings" that were in truth just Fuji's blazer streamed back in the wind. Only Fuji would ride like that, crazier than he, narrowly avoiding incoming traffic until they were now side by side. Only Fuji, because _that_ man was the one who could read the wind, the genius in Seishun blue.

They finally pulled off at from the highways to ride parallel the coastlines of Chiba, before stopping at a stretch of sand that could barely be called a beach. Saeki flopped onto the ground anyway, panting, ignoring the way the grains dug into his skin, and soon after Fuji settled beside him. They grinned at each other in the twilight, feral looks, and then Fuji was handcuffing them together (but tossing him the key). "You should know better than to race me."

Saeki rolled his eyes to the darkness, tugging at the iron chain. "Yeah, sure, you go believe that. I kept up with you fair and square." And it took all of his tricks to do it, but he wasn't going to admit to that. "So how's Yuuta? I hear he didn't bother following his good brother into Seishun and went into... 'journalism', wasn't it?"

"The manager of their team is an incompetent _fool_." The words were spat out with a measure of bitterness. Saeki never had gotten used to how much Fuji's mask shifted when it came to his younger brother. "Teaching those techniques, sending them out to watch other groups just to gain and sell information," and suddenly, Fuji's tone changed to sugary sweetness. "Well, I'm sure he'll learn the error of his ways, don't you think?"

Saeki found himself hard-pressed to disagree. He didn't like Mizuki himself, but the man's services were useful, especially for teams like his that weren't so fortunate as to have data specialists. Nonetheless, common sense told him it was better to keep his mouth shut. He released the handcuffs on his end (just in case), and tossed them over to Fuji's side. "So you think a guy like me could get his hands on your sister's amazing pie?"

There was a brief silence as Fuji considered, though most of it was spent muffling his laughter. "I think if you're not planning on propositioning her, I could provide you with some."

"Maybe you should offer some pie to that captain of yours," though Saeki found his curiosity piqued when Fuji lifted a finger to his lips in the universal gesture of secrecy. "_Did_ you?"

"Who knows?" and though Fuji's expression screamed that he had, Saeki knew better than to trust _that_. "Shall we get going then? Try to keep up, hm?"

"Try? I _will_."

The streetlights blurred to white rivers as they sped down the road.


	14. Giving Cake

Giving Cake  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

Fuji was standing in the doorway of his laboratory. 

_Well,_ Inui thought to himself. This was interesting, because Fuji rarely sought him out. Seeking him out meant that either Fuji needed data that was unaccessible to the Seishun genius, or that Fuji wanted to bait him with the query. Fuji never gave up information without an ulterior motive; if he recorded Tezuka's data for it being of the best, he watched Fuji for the hunt of trying to get that which was forbidden. "Fuji. To what do I owe this pleasure?" It was hard to keep his curiosity from leaking into his tone.

"I can't visit for the sake of visiting?" Rote conversation - next, Inui would say, _Ah, but-_

"Ah, but I know you, Fuji."

Fuji could see Inui mentally reciting his next words even before he opened his mouth, wondered amusedly what the percentage was that Inui thought he'd change lines. "Mada mada, Inui." He stuck with the usual, anyway, because there was some pleasure at jabbing at the youngest member of the Seishun force. "How has your research been?"

"Crime rates have been normal. Rikkai and Hyoutei have been cooperative lately, but that's not surprising. With that Yukimura in power," and Renji by his side, "and his personality, that is, after all, the most likely move."

Fuji's smile widened, just a little. "And your other research?"

"I'll have your supply sent to you the usual way."  
"That's good. After all, the hungry must be fed."

Inui snorted at the words. Hunger indeed - he supposed it was an apt way to describe a drug addict. It was just a little side industry of theirs, and one they ran under the nose of Tezuka at that. Their captain was certainly the symbol of justice his position in the police force represented, but they were a little looser in their morality. In any case, the extra income helped support his more outlandish interests. Someday, for sure, he would make the ultimate health drink. But for now...

"There's a ninety-two percent chance you didn't come here just to verify your shipment." Fuji found it amusing how Inui's glasses always seemed to glint at just the right moment. "Well?"

"I wonder..." Inui simply waited for him to continue, and so he beamed and asked a question he already knew the answer to. "Do you have any information on Rikkai?"

That elicited a raised eyebrow from the scientist. "What kind of information?"

Fuji shrugged. "Well, who knows? Maybe a little about the Big Three, maybe a little about Kirihara Akaya-"

"Kirihara? The newcomer?" Fuji noted with not a little annoyance that Inui had moved to scribble in that black notebook the scientist was so fond of, though he didn't let it show on his face. "Aa, good data, this. You're interested in him?" Without waiting for Fuji's response, Inui sifted through pages with a speed that bespoke of long use. "He was officially inducted into Rikkai three months ago, though it seems he caught Yukimura's interest in the Underground Matches. He managed to win against the younger Hiyoshi son."

There was a brief silence as Fuji considered the information, and then- "How is he with guns? No, don't give me statistics; compare him with Echizen."

Inui refrained from pointing out that he would rather _not_ compare Kirihara with Echizen. "Likely on par, though I'd need more inf-"

"You'll remember to send the supplies?"

A startle, and then recovery. "Of course." And so Fuji left the premises.

Inui watched Fuji's retreating back before returning to his earlier research. There had been an escalation in the number of escapades of Momoneko lately...


	15. Then There Were Nine

Then There Were Nine  
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. I just play with the characters.

* * *

Hyoutei was, first and foremost, a family. But _Keigo's_ Hyoutei belonged as much to itself as it did to the main family - loyalty to its own before outsiders. Atobe Keisuke had told his son once, "Gather strong people, trustworthy people, and they will serve you for a lifetime. These people will be your council, when you become king." Kabaji Munehiro had been his first acquisition, Hiyoshi Wakashi his most interesting. They had their own positions in Hyoutei, but they were also a group of mercenaries for hire, and at _that_, they were especially proficient at their tasks.

They bartered lives and information, for the right price (and there was no right price for betraying Hyoutei), and so when Muromachi came meekly before the presence of Atobe Keigo, the heir-apparent already knew what was being sought. Still, he waited patiently as Muromachi bowed down, began to speak.

"Speaking on behalf of all of Yamabuki, we as a group would like to contract the services of your team." The words came stilted out of the man's mouth, as though he were unused to such formality. "Undoubtedly, you know of the situation between Yamabuki and Rikkai, and... we'd like to put a hit on Yukimura."

Atobe was hard-pressed not to betray his surprise at that. He'd expected a request for information, or some such nonsense; he had to appreciate how _bold_ Yamabuki had grown. "And Yamabuki would have Hyoutei break its truce with Rikkai?"

Muromachi kept his head lowered. "It wouldn't be much, but Hyoutei would gain Yamabuki's allegiance. And," he paused here, as though he wasn't sure whether he wanted to say the next words, "the allegiance is between your group and Yukimura, am I correct? And I don't believe either one of you are really intending to keep it once Seishun is gone, if you'd even wait that long."

Very bold. The remark had Atobe laughing, and when his mirth finally subsided, he answered. "We'll take it, on one condition - that Seishun falls before we move. In any case, there has been another job concerning Rikkai that is less... _lethal_ and takes priority."

Muromachi looked up, nodded once. "I think Banji wouldn't mind if I agreed to those terms."

"Well, then, let's discuss payment..."

------

Keigo's Hyoutei. The eight of them gathered around Atobe, waiting for their individual tasks. It had been a long time that all of them had come together like this, but it had been a long time since they'd had such a massive assignment as well. Atobe began.

"As I've already told each of you briefly, we've been paid to assassinate Yukimura. Due to _politics_, that will be left until after we deal with the Seishun problem, as my father has asked of us. Nonetheless, Ohtori, Shishido. I'd like you to begin gathering any relevant data-"

"Excuse me, but... does my presence mean 'by any means necessary'?" There was a hint of a gleam in Ohtori's eye as he asked.

"As long as it doesn't get back to us. Mukahi, continue to keep an eye on Rikkai's movements, and Oshitari - keep yours on Seishun. Kabaji, I'd like you to continue your recruiting and training. Jirou, watch Yamabuki." Mukahi raised his hand. "Yes? What is it?"

"Shouldn't Jirou be watching Rikkai? He's been doing it anyway, ever since that idol of his joined. I don't see why he's so fond of Marui anyway; the man is absolutely _gruesome_ in his methods." Here, Jirou protested. "You can't deny it. Chopsticks?"

"But really! His close-range skills are _amazing_, don't you think? Just up and _wham_, like that, and-"

"Jirou." The man quietened immediately at Atobe's implied command. Still though, he continued to rock on his heels, and Atobe just sighed and placed a firm hand on his shoulder until he settled completely. "Very well. Jirou, watch Rikkai. Mukahi, you'll be watching Yamabuki the-"

"No way." Oshitari clamped a hand over Mukahi's mouth too late, and anyway, Mukahi had pulled away again. "It's been a long time since Yuushi's worked in the field, and you _know_ I prefer working as a pair."

Atobe raised one fine eyebrow. "Are you challenging my word?"

"Y-"

"I'll watch Yamabuki." All heads swung to Taki, who smiled cheerily back. "Yes? I think it might be interesting."

Atobe shrugged. "I was intending to have you be Hiyoshi's restraint when he fetched Kirihara for our client tomorrow. Very well. Shishido, you'll be accompanying Hiyoshi first tomorrow, then." Hiyoshi growled at that, _I don't need a restraint,_ but Atobe merely shot the younger man a look. "You've contacted Kirihara already, correct? In any case, I've seen how you've been every time the two of you have met. You two set each other off. Any questions?" None were expected.

The nine of them went their separate ways.


End file.
